Gang Aft AGley
by JinjoJess
Summary: What should have been an enjoyable and nostalgic trip takes a tragic turn. Post series. Rated for violence, character death, and possible shoujo ai as this is AzuDai after all.
1. Shattered Lenses

_Well, well, well, look who's showed up again, and this time in the AzuDai fandom! It was only a matter of time, seeing as I'm a huge shoujo ai fan and this series is a dream come true. Honestly, I'd seen a few episodes back in '04, but didn't really get into the series till recently, when I rewatched the whole thing over a weekend._

_Warnings: shoujo ai, violence, character death _

_Enough of my blabbing, enjoy. _

* * *

Sakaki was thirsty. 

That was the only thought the taciturn girl's mind managed to form before she was suddenly bombarded by pain. For several minutes Sakaki failed to even register her own identity, instead clamping her jaw shut against the serrated scream slicing her esophagus into ragged, bloody strips. Gradually, however, the agony faded into a numbness the girl wasn't sure resulted from the chilly weather or shock, and her higher processes once again resumed functioning.

Once again her calmer, more rational self, Sakaki mentally extended gentle hands to gingerly try to piece together the jumbled scraps of memory into a coherent whole. She could remember Chiyo's exciting, albeit unexpected, phone call announcing that she'd be back in Japan for Christmas and that she planned to invite her high school friends to the summer home for the holiday. While the older girl at first failed to see the logic behind this arrangement, Chiyo had insisted that the seaside was perfectly gorgeous during the wintertime as well as summer (especially when it snowed), and Sakaki…well, she could only hope the penguin suit would be making a dramatic reprise.

While she had yet to witness the glorious return of the penguin suit, however, it soon became clear after arriving at the Mihama residence that the high school's two most widely known female employees planned to yet again chaperone the trip. Hiding her disappointment at Chiyo's "father's" absence, Sakaki had been looking forward to the trip regardless, if only because she planned on sharing the recent artwork she'd composed in the drawing class she attended at her college. Perhaps she'd ask Kurosawa-sensei if the high school would be offering any positions for art teachers in the future.

Sakaki smiled at the thought of guiding a roomful of eager Chiyos to create adorable pictures of kittens, but reality roughly slapped her across her face as the grin aggravated her split lip, causing it to bleed profusely. Wiping the blood onto the back of her hand, the girl noted her skin's icy temperature and unbidden, a much more recent memory settled into her lap. Only a short time ago, she'd been in excruciating pain, mostly emanating from her right leg. Cautiously, Sakaki swiveled her head in that direction, her scalp brushing against some sort of low ceiling. Momentarily distracted, she looked up, and decided that either both the floor and ceiling of the rented car had been upholstered exactly the same, or the vehicle was upside down.

In her peripheral vision, the driver and passenger seats of the car loomed like stalactites, their headrests pointing toward the ground. Definitely upside down, then.

Grunting softly, Sakaki finally turned her attention to her leg, only to sharply gasp when she realized the bloody chunk of flesh protruding from her torso actually was the limb in question.

"Nasty, isn't it?"

Sakaki started at the sound of a voice, sending another searing spurt of pain up her spine. But the fact that someone else was conscious besides herself soothed her mounting anxiety, and she looked to her left to see Yomi's face peeking out, also upside down, from the space between the middle row of van seats and the roof of the car.

After examining her leg, Sakaki felt prepared for anything, but the other girl's condition seemed infinitely worse. Though she could only make out her friend's face, she could see that her glasses were shattered, only a few sharp pieces of lens remaining around the edges of the frame, the rest embedded in Yomi's cheeks, nose, forehead, and…

"Your eye," Sakaki rasped, just now remembering how thirsty she was. Yomi responded with a rueful chuckle.

"You're one to talk. Sounds like you won't be showing me up if we do karaoke tonight," she quipped, then sobered at Sakaki's silence. "Sorry. Too much time around Tomo, I guess."

Tomo.

"Where is everyone else? What happened?" If she couldn't force the puzzle herself, perhaps Yomi could help.

"I don't know about everyone," the brown-haired girl sighed, "but Tomo's back here unconscious. Since I can see her breathing, I guess that means she's not dead. There's a huge hunk of metal pinning her by the lower back though, and I bet she's hurt pretty badly."

Sakaki nodded; she understood that, though the injuries might be serious, for right now at least two of her friends were alive.

"As for Kaorin…" Yomi trailed off, and the taller girl felt her stomach tighten. Though all throughout high school she'd been dogged by admiring "fans," Kaorin had at least made honest attempts at getting to know Sakaki personally, and since graduation the two had become closer, though perhaps not quite what one would call intimate friends. Sakaki suspected that there was more to Kaorin's devotion than she cared to disclose, but she never pried into the subject; just as the shorter girl never challenged her idol's fascination with all things cute, the athletic loner neglected to demand exactly what significance each exclamation of "Sakaki-san!" carried.

The whole situation left her with a sense of responsibility for the eccentric girl, which explained the apprehensive sensation beginning to seize her stomach.

"Yes?"

"I think she's dead. No, I don't mean that—she is dead. There's…ah, I'm not really sure what it is, but some sort of debris or something…" Yomi's one good eye, her left, rolled up and down nervously as it stared at something off where Sakaki couldn't see. For the first time, she noticed that the pupil was dilated and its expression a bit crazed; she must not have noticed earlier while she was gaping at the way Yomi's right eyelid had been neatly cleft in two by a piece of lens and was now curling up unnaturally while milky white ocular fluid seeped from between the other jagged bits of glass.

"Well, anyway, whatever it is smashed her head into a…ah, pulp or something. There's a lot of blood and…is that…brains…?"

"Yomi," Sakaki croaked suddenly.

"Yeah?"

"How're you?"

Silence.

"Not so great."

The Lone Wolf nodded; she hadn't thought so. "How bad?" she asked, already anticipating the answer.

"Besides the eye, there's glass all over my body. A really huge chunk that I guess came from the rear windshield went right through my—"

"Okay."

"Yeah. I've been bleeding for hours. It feels like hours anyway." Yomi frowned, furrowing her brow and causing the glass shards jutting out of her face to shift. She expelled a sharp hiss.

Hours?

"You've been awake this whole time?"

"Unfortunately, yes. I don't know exactly what happened, but sensei slammed on the breaks and swerved for whatever reason, and then I think we rolled down a hill until we hit something. My glasses shattered and for awhile all I could think about was my eye, so I didn't even notice the…other thing." She grinned humorlessly yet again. "You'd think my fat would've cushioned the crash a bit, eh?"

Sakaki leaned back against the door behind her and closed her eyes, barely registering Yomi's second hushed apology. Silence lapsed between the two of them, moonlight filtering through the darkness inside the mangled car and casting eerie, ethereal shadows. Both girls were sure that Osaka would have some remark to make about the atmosphere had she not been unconscious—or dead.

"It's snowing," Yomi stated some time later, and her companion shifted slightly to gaze behind her and see that she was right. The taller girl blinked disinterestedly.

"Hey, Sakaki?"

"Yes?"

"I think I'm going to go to sleep for a bit. You know, I haven't gotten any rest since this whole thing started." Sakaki was no doctor, but she was fairly certain that abandoning consciousness when a one had gone through severe physical trauma and lost a great deal of blood was not a good idea. Yomi's tone indicated that she too was well aware of the implications.

"Oh, ok."

"Um, and Sakaki?"

"Yes?"

"Would you do me a favor?"

Oh no, not this. By veiling her true intentions with a casual comment about how she needed rest, Sakaki had assumed that she and Yomi had entered an unspoken agreement about how this situation was going to be handled. The shy girl failed miserably in these kinds of circumstances and even now was unsure of how to react. Following a few moments of internal debate, she chose to humor Yomi; she owed her at least that much.

"Sure."

"Look after Tomo, will you? I know she's a moron and a pain in the ass, but she's a great friend when you get down to it. And, well, she needs someone to take care of her. Pretty much all the time. I know it's a lot to ask but…"

"I'll do it."

"Thank you, Sakaki." A small, relieved smile seemed to spread across Yomi's face, but the taller girl wasn't sure if it wasn't instead a trick of the moonlight. "I think I'll have that nap now."

Stillness gelled around Sakaki as she once again reclined against the door of the car, prepared to keep a vigil for an undetermined amount of time until Tomo came around and there was someone else to talk to. The loner, not for the first time in her life, was aching for human communication when a streak of pale light unexpectedly illuminated the previously shadowed area in front of her, and she caught sight of a bloody, ratty pigtail…

* * *

_A few more notes because I don't know how to shut up: I realize Yomi is a little OOC here, but I really couldn't find a way to satisfactorily rectify it, so my explanation is that she's suffering a bit of emotional damage; this will be a chaptered story, each installment focusing on a different character while still advancing the plot (chapter 2 is actually already started); since I most recently watched the series subbed, I'll use honorifics (though that'll probably be the extent of the actual nihongo in the fic--English and Japanese don't mesh well); and as always, reviews and concrit are welcome because Lord knows I can always improve._  



	2. Torn Sleeves

_And here you are, Chapter 2. Hopefully this is slightly surprising, as I intended it to be; I'm trying to stray from the obvious in this fic, so not everything may be as you'd expect._

* * *

Kurosawa Minamo shifted uncomfortably in the driver's seat of an overturned wreck that was once a minivan. Her seatbelt was cutting quite literally into her shoulder, and at the moment finding a way to get the damn thing to release was her top priority. 

Once the device finally decided to heed its master, she dropped the few inches to the roof-now-floor and righted herself properly. Almost shamefully she recalled vividly her final thoughts before blacking out, just after she'd jerked the steering wheel to avoid the cat that had unexpectedly darted into the road and the vehicle flew over a small cliff.

Gods, here I am, about to die in a car accident and Yukari is nowhere around.

Of course that wasn't exactly true; the English teacher was currently driving herself and herself alone to Chiyo's family's house, following the riot that had erupted when they discovered that the last minute addition of Kaorin meant that only one person wouldn't fit in the car Chiyo insisted on renting. Unanimously, everyone voted that Yukari embark on the trek alone, and once the screeching had died down, it seemed that the trip would be pleasant enough.

If only.

Minamo snorted and began to check herself for injuries: it appeared that besides several lacerations resulting from broken windshield shards, she was mostly unhurt. At least, that was how it appeared until she attempted to move. Her left knee buckled beneath her weight while the right ankle rolled at an unnatural angle, but Minamo gratefully noted that these were the extent of her wounds. Things could have been much, much worse, after all.

All at once the P.E. teacher remembered her charges and whirled behind her to check on the girls, only to be met with debris and impenetrable darkness. It was snowing harder now, clouds having wrested control of the sky from the moon, severing the previous illumination. Minamo held her breath and listened instead for any labored breaths or shifting, yet couldn't make out a sound.

Sighing, she turned and looked to the side, where the passenger seat and Kagura should've been, but again her vision was impaired—this time by a curtain of nasty looking wires. Minamo assumed they were electrical in nature, and decided not to test this particular theory lest it prove true.

Swallowing in an attempt to moisten her throat, Minamo addressed the wires.

"Kagura? You awake in there?" Her query was met with a pained and not altogether coherent groan which, at the very least, meant the girl was alive. This discovery settled the churning in the teacher's stomach slightly; if at least one of her former students had survived the crash, she could at least try to redeem herself for letting this happen. That, and the guilt wouldn't be quite so utterly crushing.

"Listen, Kagura. Since I'm not too badly hurt, I'm going to climb out the window and try to find help. I don't know how quickly I can get it, but maybe I can get ahold of Yukari somehow," the details of this plan remained hazy and indistinct at best, but voicing it still made Minamo feel slightly more prepared and proactive, "I want you to hold on as long as you can, ok? And if anyone else wakes up, try to let them know what's going on and to not leave the van."

The teacher paused, and took the following grunts as affirmation that her once star student understood the instructions. Fleetingly, Minamo wondered how she was managing to remain so calm, unless of course blood loss and shock had dazed Kagura's senses beyond the point of even being afraid or panicked.

She was almost jealous.

Turning back to the task at hand, the woman studied the glass riddled window cavity that had apparently been crushed down to half its normal size during the accident. Testing the sharp fragments still clinging to the window's edge, Minamo managed to pry several loose, though exit remained a daunting venture. Sighing deeply in resolve, the gym teacher eased her battered body onto its stomach, and began to use her arms to pull herself toward the opening.

Now that she was actually passing through it, the space seemed even smaller, as if the car were attempting to bite down and devour her. Glass shards too stubborn to abandon their previous post sliced at her shoulders and back, creating less than attractive rips not only in Minamo's jacket but her flesh as well.

Gritting her teeth and picturing Chiyo trapped under a destroyed seat, she managed to free herself from the vehicle, stand, and hobble to a nearby tree. Though still dark, once the teacher's eyes adjusted, she could make out the silhouette of the crumpled van, various pieces of its machinery jutting out at random angles. Apparently, it had been a telephone pole that had ceased their earlier tumbling; although electrical and cable wires seemed to have been attached to the structure as well. The point of impact had been on the right side of the car (or what would've been the right side had it been upright), just behind the driver's seat.

Minamo shuddered; several centimeters more, and her body would have slammed into that pole as well. The worst damage seemed to be toward the backseat, however, where the giant stake had fallen on the van itself. Who had been sitting there? Kaorin.

Mentally, Minamo ran a profile on the girl: she had been in Yukari's homeroom for two years and Kimura's one; like Osaka, disliked her nickname; decent enough student both in the classroom and in P.E.; a tad melodramatic; ended up at the same university as Sakaki, whom Kaorin seemed oddly fixated on. The teacher was a touch ashamed that she couldn't come up with more for the poor young woman—corpse, now, surely—but Kaorin hadn't ever been truly considered part of "the group" and both she and Yukari regarded her as a bit of an outsider.

Good luck to whoever ended up breaking the news to Kimura.

Disgusted with herself for thinking such a thing, Minamo instead turned to the incline they'd rolled down a few hours ago. Though it didn't appear too steep, it was snowing, and the teacher's legs weren't in any condition for extended hiking. Besides, she wasn't even sure how far it was to a road; yet if these power lines were any indication, they at least hadn't crashed in the middle of uninhabited forest.

She nodded curtly, and slowly began to edge her way around the tree trunk so that she was facing the slope. Extending her arm as far as possible, she caught hold of a branch belonging to a nearby tree slightly further up, and pulled herself up to it. Her knee threatened to give out again and her ankle burned, but the teacher refused to pay attention. Getting to the road this way would take ages, but at least it was progress. Minamo couldn't bear the thought of sitting around waiting for help that may never arrive, costing possibly everyone in the car their lives. At least this way, even if not every girl made it, knowledge that she'd done _something_ would alleviate later guilt.

All she had to do was make it to the road; then she could hitch a ride or use someone's cell phone to call for help. Who knew? Maybe she'd even run into Yukari on her way to the Mihama house.

On second thought, Minamo decided that that might not be such good fortune.

* * *

_Short notes: Chose to refer to her a "Minamo" vs. "Nyamo" because it's a third person type thing right now. It may change later on. Also, I'm not focusing on romance in this fic as it's supposed to have other themes (notice that romance is not one of the genre tags), but a bit of shoujo ai may pop up here or there. Going to try and avoid expectable couples, and with the exception of Sakaki/Kagura (which I can't stand for whatever reason), just about any pairing __could possibly __ show up. Sorry this was shorter than the other chapter-- less dialogue, you see._  



	3. Frozen Tears

_Good Lord, I am a **machine**! Three chapters for this fic within a few days! _

_A note on how time functions in the story: the amount of time that passes between each chapter is relative, meaning that you're not supposed to know how long things actually take. Since the characters themselves are going through some pretty serious trauma, their perception of time is understandably a little off. For example, chapter 2 might've happened several minutes after Sakaki and Yomi stopped talking, or several hours. However, each chapter does take place after the one before it. _

_Confused yet?  
_

* * *

Sakaki had already accepted that she was going to die. 

This had to be it; snow was drifting all around the smashed van, the temperature content to remain well below freezing, a biting wind every so often snaking in where it could, chilling the girl to the bone. And the fact that she'd removed her own coat could be easily construed as suicide.

But if there was one thing Sakaki couldn't come to terms with, it was the possibility that Chiyo's short life might end here as well. That was why, as soon as she'd discovered the shivering, passed out form of her friend, she had moved to scoop up the tiny body in her arms and wrap it in her jacket. And she knew that her leg's searing protests and her frozen flesh would be well worth it if Chiyo survived. Her own death would be well worth it if only Chiyo lived.

Earlier, she thought she had heard someone moving around in the front of the car, but that was ages ago; whoever it was had either left for help or was beyond it now. Sakaki wished she knew which—bowing her head in silent prayer, she hoped desperately it was the former.

Sakaki cast a quick glance toward the shadowed backseat; the deepening darkness both from the clouds and the mounds of snow obscured the whole area, and the tall girl could no longer make out Yomi's face behind her own seat's headrest. Although, she guessed that her friend was no longer a member of the living, so perhaps her obstructed vision was a blessing.

Poor Yomi. Remembering the hysterical phone call she'd received earlier in the year, she prayed that at least at the end she'd found some peace of mind.

Sakaki and Kaorin had been studying together for an important exam, books and notes splayed out all over the taller girl's apartment. Mayaa lounged underneath the small table they were using, swatting lazily at stray papers. Kaorin had made an exasperated remark about the amount of work expected from veterinary students, prompting her companion to inquire as to her reasons for choosing the profession. At that, Kaorin had paused and blushed deeply, obviously embarrassed, before drawing a deep breath. Before she could begin whatever it was she intended to say, however, Sakaki's phone rang and interrupted the moment.

"I can't do this, Sakaki," was the greeting she'd received.

"Yomi? Is that you?"

"Yeah. Sorry, I know it seems weird, but I can't think of who else to call. Kagura wasn't in, Chiyo's got her own life in America, Osaka wouldn't get it, and Tomo…Tomo claims she doesn't have time to listen to my ridiculous bitching."

"What's wrong?" At that point, Yomi had burst into tears.

"It's all so overwhelming. The schoolwork is impossibly difficult and there's always more to do, I'm having a hard time making friends, I haven't lost a single pound—in fact, I've gained weight. I know that's why he left me."

"What? Who?"

"My…my boyfriend. He claimed it was because I was too angry for him, but I know it's because of my weight," the girl choked. Suddenly, she seemed to calm, "listen, Sakaki…so sorry to bother you with this. Thanks for listening. I know no one wants to hear about the issues in my personal life, especially about boys."

"What makes you say that?"

"That's what set Tomo off. She seemed sympathetic about the schoolwork, and she's always known about my dieting, but once I mentioned Araki, she got sulky and started to make sarcastic comments. Anyway, again, sorry to bore you with it all. It's just that sometimes I don't know if it's worth it to go on. Have you ever felt like that?"

Sakaki was actually well acquainted with depression of that sort; she'd been so tragically lonely throughout most of her life, and then that whole ordeal with hostile cats in high school…sometimes it did just seem that life was a cruel joke. Even now she had found that she enjoyed her single art class exponentially more than any of those related to her major, causing her to question the path she'd chosen for herself.

How trivial those concerns seemed once someone was practically staring into her own open grave.

Gods, it was cold.

"Chiyo-chan," Sakaki whispered, her voice having nearly abandoned her completely, "you'll look after Mayaa, won't you? He and Tadakichi-san are such good friends. I don't want anyone else to take him…"

The small girl (barely into her teens, Sakaki noted painfully) exhaled a tiny choked sigh, which her friend took as agreement. Smiling slightly and nodding, the shy young woman closed her eyes, taking a mental inventory of who she'd lost so far: Yomi and Kaorin. Drawing a shaky breath, Sakaki finally succumbed to the burning tears pooling in her dark eyes.

"Chiyo-chan?" she started again, "please don't die." Grief seized her throat then and overcame her with ragged sobs. She had always had a difficult time explaining her relationship with the younger girl, some people suggesting it was like sisters and others, namely Tomo, often insinuating that they were more like future lovers. However, both descriptions disappointed Sakaki; they seemed empty and did not accurately portray her love for the girl.

She did love Chiyo—dearly, in fact. But as neither an elder sister nor a lover; instead, Sakaki felt more of a maternal affection for her friend, very similar to what she shared with Mayaa. After all, Chiyo had first piqued her interest because of her cuteness. But as she began to become familiar with the young girl, she found that she admired her purity of spirit and razor fine intelligence to the point of being _proud_ of her. If she stopped and considered it, she doubted that anything Chiyo could say or do could ever shake her loyalty to the small girl. Surely, this was unconditional love.

Sakaki suddenly saddened at the thought that she might never be able to discuss this with Chiyo herself; there was no guarantee that both of them would escape this wreck alive. Often, she'd wondered what the genius had to say about their friendship and whether she saw it under the same terms. Perhaps Chiyo did in fact look up to Sakaki as an older sibling...and there was even the possibility, though she doubted it, that she wished to be with the older girl in a more romantic sense. It would definitely be an enlightening conversation.

But Sakaki was going to die here, while Chiyo survived and returned to America to continue her studies. Then she'd quickly evolve into her adult self, confident and smart, ready to tackle anyone and anything in her way. Her career was arbitrary; whatever direction Chiyo chose to pursue, she would flourish and thrive. Perhaps every so often she'd visit Sakaki's grave (along with Kaorin's and Yomi's) to place flowers and offer a sincere prayer.

Picturing Chiyo's future success caused Sakaki's heart to swell; the only improvement she could imagine was her own presence. Yes, being there to witness her friend's future achievements was a definite motive to live.

And then there was that promise to Yomi. A close friend had entrusted Sakaki with her own version of Chiyo—Tomo. Once the two had discussed the exact nature of their long-standing relationship, and she could vividly remember the hearty chuckle Yomi had uttered when Sakaki had inquired if the two were involved romantically.

"We were for a brief period of time," she had elucidated, "right at the end of middle school. At first it seemed like a perfect idea, since we always had acted like an old married couple, but when it came to physical intimacy, suddenly neither of us was interested anymore. We decided that what we had was more of a fraternal bond than anything else. Although, a lot of the time I feel like her mother."

Sakaki had brightened then, understanding perfectly: Yomi's love for Tomo was like hers for Chiyo. That made perfect sense.

"Anyway," Yomi had laughed then, "_you've_ always been more my type."

* * *

_Wasn't going to end there originally, but figured it was a good place to stop. Hope the flashbacks are easy enough to get through and not too confusing. I decided to try and tackle things like thoughts and changes in setting without formatting differently, but I'm not sure how well it worked._

_And I did warn you about not being conventional and about weirdness in the romance department--although something about Sakaki/Yomi makes me feel warm and fuzzy. _


	4. Churning Stomach

_Aaaaaand there goes my quick updating schedule. Ah well; at least I'm still working on the story and still have inspiration, unlike other ventures I've undertaken (coughpokemonficcough). Anyway, this chapter is a bit longer, partially to make up for it taking so long, and partially because I've found that it's really fun to write Tomo. Can't wait to get to Yukari now.  
_

* * *

The second time Tomo was violently jolted into consciousness, she found her surroundings a great deal calmer than her previous awakening. 

The first time she'd woken up, Yomi had been screaming at a painfully high pitch; Tomo could barely understand what she assumed were words outside of "my eye!" and several expletives of varying profanity. Thirty seconds after she'd opened her eyes, she decided that Yomi couldn't be reasoned with at the moment and turned to her left, mostly to muffle the agonized screeching on her other side.

Here, whispering frantically to herself, lay Kaorin; it seemed that she'd smacked her face into the headrest of the seat in front of her (Osaka's seat, Tomo noted), knocking out several teeth and crushing her nose. Blood cascaded out of both her nostrils and mouth, giving Kaorin a gruesome appearance that reminded Tomo of flesh eating demons. A quick glance at her hands showed that the shorter girl's fingers were also smashed, the ring and middle digits of her right hand bent all the way backward over the back of her hand.

Shivering, Tomo had been about to test her own injuries when Kaorin noticed that she was awake, and turned to speak to her. Her eyes frantically darted around in the dark, seemingly searching for something she dreaded to find. Tomo wondered if her friend had any idea how horrible she looked.

"Tomo," she moaned, almost pleadingly, "please make sure Sakaki-san is alright. I couldn't bear it if anything happened to her."

"Uh, sure," the taller girl croaked in reply, trying to ignore the gurgling sound that accompanied her friend's words, "but I just got up so I don't know any more than you do."

"I meant later," Kaorin snapped, for the moment at least, seeming like her old self, "in case, you know, I'm not still here."

So she had noticed.

"Don't say stupid shit like that," Tomo had retorted, "Nyamo's going to call Yukari-chan and we'll be out of here in a few…"

"What if Kurosawa-sensei is dead?"

Damn. Tomo hadn't thought of that.

"Anyway," Kaorin continued, "there's no way someone as perfect as Sakaki-san would ever want me now." She gestured to her bloodied visage. "I just wish I had told her before all this happened."

Tomo had felt awful by that point, being very intimate friends with Regret herself, and had been about to offer a few words of comfort when the air was split by a sickening crack outside the van. A huge shadow descended rapidly, and Tomo just had enough time to

_I didn't tell Kagura how hot she looks when I had the chance_

close her eyes before

_I never got to work for Interpol like in the movies_

she heard Kaorin's terrified shriek

_I never apologized to Yomi for being such an ass all the time_

harmonize in chorus with Yomi's and

_I still don't know what Sakaki's first name is_

everything went black.

Now, an eerie stillness had engulfed the wreckage, as silent and dark as death itself, and Tomo found herself almost longing for her friends' screams.

She couldn't feel her legs at all, beyond a crushing feeling of pressure on her lower spine, and that worried her. Tomo was far too energetic to be confined to a wheelchair for any length of time. Well, on second thought, perhaps a wheelchair wouldn't be so bad for awhile; she could challenge people to races and they'd have to let her win since she was a cripple after all. She'd make Kagura and Sakaki carry her up and down stairs, and maybe she'd even tie her chair to the back of Yukari's car. Haha! She could just imagine Yomi trying to win an argument against a poor little girl in a wheelchair…

Yomi.

With more than slight difficulty, Tomo wrenched her upper body so that it faced the right. Her oldest friend was no longer screeching in pain, and, oddly enough, that fact terrified her. Examining Yomi's still form, she took in the deep cuts all over her body, mostly caused from chunks of glass, including the massive sheet that seemed to have split her torso in half. Then there was that eye; blood and fluid had dried in a stomach turning crust all around the lens pieces, leaving a trail where it had seeped down (or up, as she was upside down) her forehead. The other eye was closed.

Holding her breath, Tomo tentatively reached out a bruised hand. Maybe Yomi was just asleep—that was it. In fact, she was probably even playing a trick on Tomo, leading her poor friend to believe that she was dead, and then she'd burst out laughing in a few seconds and tell her what a dumb ass she was. The thought enraged the girl, and instead of the light shaking she'd intended originally, Tomo ended up punching Yomi in the arm. _Hard_.

Yet she received no reaction at all. No flinching, no dodging, no indignant demand to know what the hell Tomo thought she was doing. Nothing.

"Yomi?" she called softly.

The brown-haired girl didn't respond.

"Yomi? Yomi! YOMI!" Finding her voice, Tomo began to scream her friend's name, air rasping in her throat and chafing its insides.

"Tomo!"

For a moment, the Wildcat was caught off guard. As much as she dreaded the thought that Yomi might not be joking around after all, suddenly hearing a voice answer her frantic cries was the last thing she'd expected. However, this voice wasn't Yomi's; it was similarly deep, but much softer and unsure. Even beneath the hoarseness, she could recognize it.

"Sa…Sakaki!"

"Are you alright?" Tomo found this to be a stupid question, but deigned to answer anyway with a non-committal "I don't know."

"About Yomi," the other girl sighed and then paused, "I'm sorry."

So that was that, then. Honestly, Tomo wasn't quite sure how to feel at the moment; she supposed that she should be sad and should cry to express her grief. But Takino Tomo was not an average person, and so she skipped quickly over denial to anger. And stayed there.

How dare Yomi abandon her, especially at a time like this! They'd always been together, and gotten through everything as a team, and despite their bickering, neither of them would have had it otherwise. Tomo had even worked her ass off in ninth grade to see to it that they were in the same high school! And Yomi couldn't even hold up her end of the bargain, leaving her so-called best friend to flounder around behind her while she transcended the physical world. Fucking selfish, it was.

Tomo suddenly realized that she was literally growling, and switched her attention to her shy, athletic friend who had just recently drug herself closer. Except for the haggard look hanging around her eyes and how her body shivered (why wasn't she wearing her jacket? It was freezing outside!), Sakaki appeared to be fine.

Except, well, you know, the fact that she grimaced every time her body inched forward.

"Uh, hey Sakaki," Tomo ventured once her friend got close enough and she could see her face more clearly, "how's everyone else?"

The relief the dark girl had been wearing dissolved into a much more somber expression, and she took a deep breath before answering.

"Well, you know about Yomi. Chiyo-chan, well…" Sakaki held out the small bundle in her arms, and for the first time the hyperactive girl noticed that it was indeed alive and distinctly Chiyo-shaped, "I have no clue about Osaka, Kurosawa-sensei, or Kagura, but I think I heard someone moving around in the front seat about two hours ago. And then there's Kaorin."

"Oh shit! I almost forgot!" Feeling even more guilty, Tomo whipped her head to her left only to recoil in disgust. Here she had thought Kaorin had looked awful _before_—this was far more gruesome than she ever could've imagined.

Apparently, whatever was pinning Tomo's lower back had fallen squarely on Kaorin's head, effectively smashing it like an overripe piece of fruit. The hunk of whatever it was had squashed her skull almost completely flat, blood and stringy gray goo Tomo took to be brains pooling around the crumpled flesh.

Gut churning, Tomo snapped her head in the opposite direction, only to be met with Yomi's corpse, pierced eye and all. Feeling herself become increasingly light-headed, she wretched a few times before vomiting violently.

No traces of blood in the puke, though, she was happy to note.

Breathing deeply to recover, Tomo watched Sakaki lean forward, catch a glimpse of what was once Kaorin, and close her eyes while hugging Chiyo closer. Closer inspection revealed that the tall girl was sobbing softly, tears forging tiny rivulets through the grime coating her face. For some unidentifiable reason, Tomo found the miniscule tributaries far more disturbing than the two dead bodies sandwiching her on either side. If this shit was bad enough to break _Sakaki's_ cool…

Fuck, Yomi. Why the hell aren't you here?

I'm scared.

* * *

_There's a lot of things that don't sit well with me about this chapter, but since I like how it functions as a whole, I guess I can live with them. Also, I'm a bit disappointed no one's asked me what the title means; hint, I'm ripping off Steinbeck a bit. Not that anyone really cares, I'm sure.  
_

_Let me know what you think, as always._


	5. Reality's Nicknames

_After a relaxing few days at the beach, I return to my now longest fic, to your delight or dismay. As always, huge thanks to anyone who takes the time to review; I'm glad you guys like the story and took the time to find it in the M section.  
_

_And here I thought Tomo was fun to write, but this chapter...wow. Just to warn you, I get a bit...metaphysical in here, but I like this chapter probably more than any of the others._

_That's right, ladies and gentlemen, it's Osaka-time. _

* * *

Kasuga Ayumu was flying. 

At least, she had flown for a brief moment before the world started to rotate violently, reminding the eccentric Osakan of a dryer, and she imagined herself and her friends as various pieces of laundry: Sakaki a long, elegant dress; Tomo a brightly colored tank top; Yomi a sensible sweater; Chiyo-chan a cute pair of pink socks; Kagura a one-piece bathing suit…

Before Osaka could start on Kaorin or the teachers, however, the van had smashed into something very sturdy. The universe flashed red, then orange, then proceeded through the rainbow before seeping out of the girl's vision and giving way to deep, endless blackness.

She'd been sitting alone in the dark for awhile now, musing over what exactly had happened and why. Osaka was sure her friends, were they present, would insist that it had been a simple car accident, but she wasn't satisfied that this wasn't indeed some scheme of aliens or foreigners or Chiyo's pigtails.

The pigtails…of course!

Why hadn't she examined them during the crash? Perhaps they'd feigned worry and fright over Chiyo's condition, but there might have been a point where they revealed their true, sick nature, if only for a second. Only Osaka would've been able to identify any glimmer of malice in their devious locks.

But then again, if harm were to come to Chiyo, the pigtails would be robbed of a host. With no one to feed off of, their parasitic existence would end indefinitely, ruling them out as possible causes of the grisly circumstances.

Who then?

Actually, come to think of it, what exactly was Osaka's situation? Turning her head slowly to take in the depressing surroundings, the girl couldn't decide if this far-reaching darkness represented death or not. Taking into account the throbbing pain in her right side, she guessed not.

Well then, as tempting as it was to stare out into the abyss and think, Osaka realized that her friends were on the other side of her skull, suffering maybe, and they were probably worried sick right about now. So how to escape one's own mind…

Concentrating and breathing deeply, Osaka imagined a door. For a few minutes she debated whether to make it a solid wooden Western style affair or stick to more traditional fare. Though a hinged door was far simpler and would probably help the girl escape her unconscious state more quickly, she realized that her brain would never be that straightforward; no, it was more like a traditional Japanese home, where the sliding screens could be arranged in infinite combinations to create a different atmosphere each time.

Slide, slide, slide.

Osaka's stomach heaved as she clung to the white metal railing, her hair trailing behind her in a gentle but forceful gust of wind. Her brown eyes scanned her new surroundings, taking in the bright, cloudless sky, brilliant, rippling water, and (once the breeze died) oppressive humidity. This was a far cry from the quiet, chilly, overcast weather that had hung over the road as Kurosawa-sensei drove them toward Chiyo's summer home.

This was summer, and the wide expanse of living glass pooling out in all directions from beneath the boat she stood on was the Seto Inland Sea.

She was currently standing on the deck of her friend Uzuki's boat (well, her father's boat), with her other Osakan cohorts. Remembering this trip very vividly, she turned to her left just in time to catch Orimi slip in her exaggerated dance and fall over the side. It took Osaka a few moments, during which she mused about Orimi's and Tomo's similarities, before she recalled another important detail: she was the one who alerted everyone to the girl overboard.

Calling out for help, Osaka dashed to the side of the boat, leaning over and watching her friend attempt to swim. Earlier in the day, she knew from memory, the other girl had refused to wear a lifejacket because she thought it was ugly, and as Uzuki had "borrowed" the vessel from her father without his knowledge, she had been ready to oblige Orimi's demands so that they could leave without causing a major scene.

"Oh boy," Uzuki sighed as she strolled up next to Osaka, shaking her head, "I forgot Ori-chan doesn't know how to swim."

"Uzu! Bonyari! Help me out here!" the stubborn girl cried, her frantic arm thrashings stirring up the water around her and causing it to foam.

Frowning deeply, Osaka mentally wretched at the thought of that nickname—"Bonyari." All of her friends were always calling her absent-minded and out of it, but only Orimi had the gall and audacity to use it as a moniker for her thoughtful friend. Despite her chagrin over being dubbed the same as the city she hailed from on her first day of high school, Osaka had internally expelled a sigh of relief; as plain as her nickname was, it at least didn't make any kind of judgmental statement about her.

Slide, slide, slide.

The railing she'd been clinging to unexpectedly stretched and flattened, molding into a very familiar object. Around her, the sea froze and condensed into solid tile, the free, wild air suddenly held at bay by large glass windows, strong white walls springing up from seemingly nowhere. Osaka recognized the new area quite well: it was Yukari-sensei's classroom.

Casting her gaze about, she saw that indeed this was Class 3 as she'd known it in high school, complete with Tomo's yammering and Sakaki staring silently out the window. Osaka smiled; this scene was far more comforting and safe, even when factoring the presence of Chiyo-chan's demonic pigtails. The girl let a contented sigh escape her lips, only to see a huge shadow descend over her.

"Osaka," Yukari snapped, "don't you even think about falling asleep in this class again. We're having a test tomorrow and I'm sick of you bringing down our class average."

The English teacher paused a moment before narrowing her eyes and glaring at the rest of the once "Bonkuras."

"That goes for you two morons as well!"

Kagura snapped to attention while Tomo continued her flippant comments and Yukari returned to her position at the front of the room.

Osaka remembered this particular day as well, though with slightly less clarity than the previous memory. There was the sympathetic look Chiyo offered when she turned around, Yomi's head shaking (not intended for her so much, she was sure), and the continued glazed look in Sakaki's eyes. Then again, this exact scene had played out countless times during Osaka's high school career, and perhaps it was easier to recall details about this moment, rather than harder, due to the sheer number of times she'd lived it.

As Osaka considered this, she immediately noticed that she was starting to doze off, not an uncommon occurrence in these circumstances, but counterproductive to the waking up she had set out to accomplish. Unfortunately, her eyelids disagreed and stubbornly hung like dead weight over her eyes. The girl felt her head gently lower to rest on the desk, her chin greeting the cool surface like an old friend.

An indistinct shape that Osaka knew to be Yukari appeared abruptly, her arm positioned above her head, ready to smack the rolled up exercise book into her student's skull.

Slide, slide, slide.

Bits of shattered glass serenely glided through the air, unperturbed by the chaos ensuing for those bound by gravity's harsh leash. Osaka longed to be like those sparkling specks of perfection, unrestrained and exquisite. But she was merely a human girl, unable to transcend her plain, dumpy body that no one found beautiful. She couldn't escape the glassy effect her eyes took on when she thought hard about something, just as she couldn't force herself to stop thinking about things no one else cared about.

And there was no way to throw off the fetters of those damned nicknames.

As the van rolled down the hill in Osaka's memory, each time her thin frame was slammed against the interior of the car, it felt like those confused or patronizing looks other people offered when she spoke.

The hissing air and groaning steel seemed to whisper her nicknames over and over with increasing depravity: "Bonyari…Osaka…"

Trapped by the suffocating confines of a rented minivan, the girl frantically attempted to make out the tumbling outside world, but the car impeded her vision and thwarted every effort. All she wanted was to reach out and touch the trees and grass outside and feel them, know they were real, but she couldn't. She couldn't penetrate the thick glass windows or shaped metal forged by others' hands.

She realized that the world, the universe, reality, were not really like one saw them from a moving van window as it drove toward an intended destination. It wasn't deserted roads or ominous winter skies or dense forest foliage. It was this—erratic, jumbled, and constantly in flux. It was searing pain and numbing shock and raw fear that sliced open every single artery, vein, and capillary in your body and drained you. It was tiny shards of glass that moved in slow motion in the middle of a grisly car wreck, representing true, pure beauty. It was gripping onto an unwound paper clip with a strength you didn't know you possessed in order to cling to life and not succumb to death…even though your palms were sweaty and you could fall into the abyss at any moment.

_This_ was life.

Damn this bastard car and soulless society and everyone else on the planet for keeping her from it.

And, as Osaka's body slammed into something very sturdy with a skin-crawling crunch, the young woman realized that it was not in fact Chiyo's pigtails or any other aggressor that caused the crash.

She had.

Kasuga Ayumu screamed.

* * *

_**Quick notes and points of interest/trivia:** _

_The Seto Inland Sea: Yeah, I know that it's more often referred to nowadays as just plain old "Inland Sea" but as most people reading this English fic probably don't know Japan's geography that well, I put the old name in. It connects to Osaka Bay and is right near Kobe (a sore spot for me since I haven't been able to go on the Kobe trip with my college for two years in a row while all my friends did)._

_sliding doors in Japanese homes: this is true, they did used to use them to make rooms bigger/smaller/more numerous/etc. _

_bonyari: is a complicated grammatical thing in Japanese, but all you need to know is that it has two meanings--it refers to being absent-minded and to blurred objects or colors (I tried to incorporate both in this chapter, but who knows how that went).  
_

_Osaka's friends: had names randomly picked out of a hat (much like the name of Yomi's boyfriend in Chapter 3). I'm not aware that they've ever been mentioned really outside of calling Osaka spacy, but if they are, I apologize.  
_

_Well, that's about it. I tried my best to keep Osaka in character and I hopefully succeeded. Hope you enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I did writing it and let me know what you think! _


	6. Naked Memory

** Sorry for the long ass wait, guys. Hopefully this shitty chapter makes up for it? **

* * *

Tanizaki Yukari irritably drummed her fingers against the steering wheel of her car. It was fucking freezing, and she'd forgotten gloves (again), so she had to make sure to keep her digits moving before they got frostbite or fell off or something equally unpleasant. Lazily, she scanned the parking area adjacent to the Mihama cottage, but failed to notice any sign of company.

"Where the hell are they?" she growled under her breath. To be honest, she had been thrilled to realize that she was the first to arrive at the vacation home, despite getting a late start. Served them right for forcing her to make the harrowing journey alone. What Yukari hadn't counted on, however, was the fact that she didn't possess the key to the front door (she distinctly remembered Nyamo slipping it into her jacket pocket) and for the past hour and a half she'd been freezing her ass off in her own vehicle.

"They probably stopped somewhere for hot chocolate and cookies or something," she mumbled, turning the key in the ignition as the engine roared alive. If nothing else, she was sure of one thing: sitting around wasn't getting her anywhere.

With reckless abandon, Yukari backed out of the cottage's dirt parking lot, swinging the car around so that it faced the opposite direction. The rear tires fishtailed as she zoomed around the first corner, but the English teacher was far too set on her own disgruntled fantasy to notice. She was going to find those brats and that thankless lout of a gym teacher if she had to check every rest stop from here to Tokyo. And when she did find them, she'd burst through the front door and swagger by without acknowledging them at all.

"_Oh, please sit with us, Yukari-sensei!"_ they'd cry, but she'd simply turn her head the other direction and remark, in perfect English, _"Did you hear something? No, it must've been the wind."_

Grinning evilly in self-satisfaction, Yukari gunned the gas, picturing the girls clinging to the edges of her skirt, now inexplicably part of a stunning evening gown. Nyamo, clad in a smart tuxedo, would kneel apologetically in front of her, extending a flower—a rose—upward in supplication for forgiveness. Closing her eyes to better picture the scene, Yukari leaned her head backward into the headrest, relaxing her arms.

After a few seconds though, she realized that driving without looking at the road was something Chiyo often scolded her for, and crashing the Yukari-mobile into a snowdrift would hardly help with the aloof image she was trying to project. As soon as her eyelids rose, however, Yukari noticed something moving across the road. It was dark, and the creature was shadowy as it inched forward on all fours, so she was forced to lean forward and squint to try and make out what it was. A raccoon, probably. Or maybe a fox? Whatever it was, it looked injured.

The thing reached the left lane and suddenly stopped, tottering slightly before collapsing into a heap. The English teacher slammed on her brakes, but the roads were thickly coated with a layer of snow and ice and her tires failed to grip the asphalt.

As soon as her headlights washed over the prostrate being, bathing it in eerie, artificial light, Yukari saw that not only was this sorry thing a human, but one she was rather familiar with.

"NYAMO!" she screamed, jerking the steering wheel, as well as the Yukari-mobile, into the right lane and just barely missing the other woman. The vehicle slid to rest finally, and the brown-haired teacher scrambled out into the street.

"Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit…" Yukari ran around the back of the car to where her friend was lying in the road, bending down and gingerly touching her elbow. Nyamo was in a bad way; her arms and back were covered in lacerations and her right foot looked like it was ready to twist right off.

The dark-haired woman chuckled slightly into the snow, sounding for all intents and purposes, insane. "Now I'm hearing Yukari…At least it doesn't hurt so much anymore. Being dead isn't all that bad…"

"Nyamo," Yukari said firmly, alarmed to realize that her voice wavered slightly with tears, "it is me, you idiot." She lifted the PE teacher as gently as she could manage and turned her over so that they faced each other. Despite how carefully she moved though, her friend hissed in pain several times.

"Yu…Yu…" Nyamo seemed unable to form words, though if it was due more to the cold or the fact that she had burst into tears, the English teacher couldn't tell. For several minutes she simply held her friend, letting her cry literally on her own shoulder, rubbing her back and arms to prevent them from freezing.

"It's okay, it's okay. Knock that shit off, you know it won't help any." Somehow, the hypocrisy that she herself was all but sobbing didn't phase her.

Once Nyamo had calmed down, Yukari did her best to lift her and drag her to her own car. If she could get them both back to the cottage, then everything would be alright. It wasn't going to end like this.

"Ugh, for a PE teacher you're really heavy, you know that?" she complained, the tears caught on the edges of her lips making her mouth taste salty, "you'd think you'd be in better shape." The brown-haired teacher awkwardly placed her friend in the passenger seat, buckling the seatbelt clumsily and running around to the driver's side again. She slammed her own door closed and threw the car into drive, careening around in a wide circle so that they headed back toward the vacation home.

Fortunately, the parking area at the house was salted, and the car skidded to a stop right away, albeit not smoothly. Breathing a sigh of relief, Yukari turned to her cohort.

"You still have the key, right Nyamo?" she asked, but the black-haired woman failed to respond. Yukari felt like crying again, but instead she hesitantly reached her fingers into her friend's torn jacked and retrieved the key. Only one more stretch to go.

This time Yukari attempted something different; she unbuckled Nyamo's seatbelt and pulled her forward so that she rested on her in a piggy-back style. This she noted was a much easier and less stressful way to carry someone, and Yukari was rather pleased with her own industry.

Her self-satisfaction faded when she got inside and realized that her best friend—her only friend—was still unconscious, shivering and bleeding.

Trying desperately not to panic, Yukari eased Nyamo down on the couch in the main room and debated what to do. Not being the outdoorsy type, she'd never picked up on basic survival skills, and had next to no medical knowledge, even of a layman's level. But she had to do something, or else lose one of the few precious people in the world who cared she was alive.

Unbidden, Yukari began to cry again. Oddly enough, an idea ambushed her and she decided to run a hot bath and soak Nyamo in it. She was cold after all, and hot water couldn't hurt in this situation, right?

Tears still glimmering on her cheeks, she managed to haul the PE teacher into the bathroom and fill the tub with steaming water. As she undressed the other woman, Yukari was suddenly reminded of that single time in high school that Nyamo had gotten drunk. It hadn't been pretty; she'd lost all composure and conducted herself in a manner that brought a blush to even her brown-haired friend's cheeks. The night had culminated in Yukari foiling a would-be date rape after walking in on some disgusting creature disrobing her best friend. She could clearly recall the depraved, hungry smile stretched tautly over his oily, flabby features and the pudgy, sausage-like fingers (all ten of which she promptly broke) groping at Nyamo's body.

But the memory of the villain was not nearly as vivid as that of what happened next. Yukari, sobbing and furious with herself for letting this almost happen, had determinedly replaced every bit of Nyamo's clothing. Though it was not the only time she had seen her friend nude (indeed there were several trips to expensive onsen charged to the Kurosawa credit card), it had been the first and most intimate.

Until now, anyway.

With the utmost care, Yukari lowered her friend into the water, making sure to prop her head well above the water line. The last thing she needed was for the person she saved from hypothermia to drown. Gently, she stroked the wild strands of hair away from the PE teacher's face, revealing a dizzying pattern of bruises and cuts.

"Oh Nyamo," Yukari sighed, "you're the one who's supposed to take care of me, remember?"

"Nnnnn…" the other woman responded softly.

"I ought to report this, you know," Yukari continued, tearing up again, "slacking off on the job. I mean, you even left the girls by themselves…"

"THE GIRLS!" Nyamo unexpectedly lurched forward, sloshing steaming water over the side of the tub and thoroughly soaking the surprised English teacher.

"Well that was quick," Yukari quipped, attempting to rub her eyes and rid herself of the evidence that she'd been crying.

"Yukari!" the PE teacher exclaimed, "we've got to call the police! An ambulance! Something! There was a car crash and the girls were in the car and they're alone now and we have to save them…"

"What?!" It took a great deal of self-control not to erupt into an obnoxious chorus of "I told you so" but somehow Yukari managed.

* * *

**Haha, my explanation for why the bath worked is simply because they're Japanese. Baths fix everything.  
**


	7. Live Wire

_Here's Chapter 7, wherein the author remembers about Kagura! I don't know how I forgot her, considering she's one of my favorite characters in the show. Of course, I adore all of them (yes, even Kimura). _

_Sorry this one's so short for all the wait for it. When I started this story (almost two years ago now), I was quick on updates that I loved. Now I'm slow on updates I'm satisfied with. Something about this chapter doesn't sit right with me, but I've been going over it for the past two hours so I have a finished product I'm pretty happy with, but not crazy about. Look out for better stuff next time._

* * *

For some reason, Kagura found herself upside down, clutching one of her own teeth in her fist.

When she'd first woken up, she had heard a popping crackle from somewhere nearby, reminding her of simmering bacon. Eyes still screwed shut, she had licked her lips, but instead of the strawberry flavored lip gloss her mother nagged her to wear to bed every night, she'd tasted dry, dead skin and salty, metallic blood. Alarmed, she'd pulled her tongue back into her mouth and snapped her jaw shut, dislodging a tooth in the process. For a few seconds she had played with the tiny bone fragment, pushing it from one side of her mouth to the other, before finally spitting it into her hand.

Rubbing it between her thumb and pointer finger, Kagura tried to quell the rising panic in her spine, telling herself that it wasn't really a tooth, despite that the tip of her tongue was now poking through the gap left in its absence. It was impossible; she was in peak physical (and dental) condition, and besides, she hadn't lost a tooth since she was about thirteen. After a particularly nasty fight with a boy much older and much bigger than she was. She had lost, naturally, but he'd never again picked on the small quiet girl in their neighborhood. Though following the battle, the girl scurried away whenever her self-proclaimed protector approached. Without thinking, Kagura pushed her tongue against her fake canine.

What time was it? She must have overslept again. That was why her mother was cooking breakfast already; the bacon must be to entice her out of bed.

Feeling guilty, the girl sat up quickly, her eyes snapping open and her lips flapping: "OKAA…!"

Before she could finish, the seatbelt pulled taut around her shoulder and neck, slamming Kagura's weakened, wounded body back into the passenger seat. Her skull smacked against the headrest, colored bursts exploding all over her field of vision. For several minutes, she remained completely still, slumped into a position that would have been called slouching had she been upright.

As her breathing slowed to normal and the blackness receded from her vision, she panned her surroundings, mentally attempting to sort out where she was. If she didn't know better, it was almost as if she were in a car. An upside down car. With nasty looking wires all over the place. And broken glass.

"Shit," Kagura muttered, her voice trembling. How could she have forgotten? They were driving to Chiyo's summer home for Christmas. She recalled vividly teasing Tomo for her defeat in a dramatic rock paper scissors match for the front seat and then…then something had jumped into the street and Kurosawa-sensei had swerved and…

Groaning, the young athlete pushed the frantic memories of tumbling down the cliff face out of her mind. She was beginning to get nauseous, and the last thing she wanted to do was find out what gravity did to someone who threw literally _up_. She noticed that she was shivering, and turned to see in the dim light that the passenger side window had been completely smashed, jagged shards of glass reflecting the brief glances of the moon.

Tentatively, Kagura probed her body, removing the startlingly small number of glass slivers embedded in her, thinking about how awful it would have been to get hit somewhere like the eye. Suddenly, she remembered that she was still clinging her rogue tooth. She tried to transfer it to her opposite hand, but the limb in question refused to respond. Taking a few deep breaths to steady her concentration, she managed to lift her forearm, but the amount of energy it required worried her.

Carefully, she tried to place the tooth into her left palm, but her fingers refused to close and the small white speck dropped to the floor somewhere above Kagura's head. Desperately, she flailed her good hand around blindly, but all she found were sharp pieces of glass and metal. Finally, she gave up, pulling her arm to herself. She'd never felt this weak before; she was the best female athlete in the school, Kurosawa-sensei's pride and joy, but she couldn't even hold onto one of her own fucking teeth.

Without warning, Kagura burst into tears. Thrashing against the seat, she clawed at the belt, trying to free herself. Gradually, her sobs rose in pitch to full screams, as she once again failed. Why bother? If she wasn't fit enough to free herself or keep track of wayward body parts, she might as well just die now. Even this screaming was pointless.

Her voice died, sucking the air out of her lungs. She deflated, sliding so that her shoulders lay against the ground, debris clinging to her hair and clothes. Resting her right cheek against the roof, she stared intently at the sparking wires mere centimeters away. If she were Tomo, she might rationalize that channeling the power from the electricity would revive her strength. Her mouth twisted into a crooked smile—it couldn't hurt, could it?

The tips of her fingers were about to brush the exposed copper when she heard someone call her name.

"Kagura!"

Where would that have come from?

"Kagura!"

The voice was louder this time, and not as low or husky.

"Fuck. Do you think she's…?"

"No."

"How the hell do you know?"

"I think I can hear her breathing."

Eyes widening, the tan girl remembered what her mentor had said to her earlier, when everything was still swimming around in liquid agony: "Hold on as long as you can. If the others wake up, tell them I went for help and to not leave the van." Or something like that. Of course, how could she forget! Her friends were in the car as well! And if Kagura could have survived the crash, that meant that the other hardy members of the group should have as well…

"I can't hear anything! Go up there and see what's going on!"

"There are wires in the way."

Tomo. And Sakaki.

An unexpected laugh popped from Kagura's throat—she should have known it would take more than a simple car crash to put an end to those two.

A gasp echoed her outburst.

"Did you hear that?" That full-throated voice had to be Tomo. She sounded uncharacteristically worried.

"I'm okay," the athlete called, her throat dry, but otherwise unharmed.

"Are you sure?" A voice that calm in this situation was Sakaki, undoubtedly.

"Yeah," Kagura confirmed, tears welling up once again, "I think so."

* * *

_Wasn't going to end there originally, but I wanted to get something out before I started contemplating rewriting the whole chapter. I apologize for all the cliches._


End file.
